It is impossible to pretend to be back in Poland and write about those wonderful adventures when we are all feeling concerned about the health of my husband's father. It is where my mind is and will be for awhile. Don has a form of leukemia/lymphoma and it is serious.
We find ourselves feeling surrounded by loving friends and family -- and I'm going to leave you with that for now. Keep Don in your thoughts and prayers.
Peace,
Jan
Monday, April 23, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Life always happens when you're not quite ready
The flight was due to leave Denver at 4:50 p.m. on Thursday.
On the day before, Wednesday, at 4:50, we learned by accident that our flight had been rescheduled and we'd be leaving on Thursday morning at 10.
Procrastination is not a good strategy for those who are preparing to travel.
A quick trip to the pharmacy to complete errands we'd planned to accomplish on Thursday morning. Discovered a prescription called for a medicine that didn't exist. Emergency call to physician. Gentle, reassuring, patient and persistent pharmacists who worked overtime to take care of things. Prescription filled. I could proceed.
Back at home to finish packing. And a short night's sleep.
And we were off.
Going to Poland is always emotionally fraught for me. So many memories, so much expectation, so many disappointments, heartbreak, exhilaration.
But this time Dave was coming along. And what a joy that was.
We hurried up and waited. Discovered that TSA missed some forgotten liquids in our carry-on luggage.
Flew off into the clouds and through the night, watched three movies to stifle the nerves, a long lay-over at Heathrow, excellent French Onion Soup in terminal three, and then...
do Warsawaw, to Warsaw.
A city bus to our Five-Star Hotel and a gracious, elegant Old World welcome.
Arrival. Settle in. Go exploring. Settle nerves. Gawk with amazement.
Warsaw. A city of utter devastation in 1945. Nothing, nothing but rubble. And now, here we are, living again on the rubble of the past and finding a thriving, forward-leaning city.
Warsaw is not just its past anymore. It is its future. And that is all around! Especially in the university students that are our neighbors.
Poland is not built on rubble anymore. It is built on dreams.
On the day before, Wednesday, at 4:50, we learned by accident that our flight had been rescheduled and we'd be leaving on Thursday morning at 10.
Procrastination is not a good strategy for those who are preparing to travel.
A quick trip to the pharmacy to complete errands we'd planned to accomplish on Thursday morning. Discovered a prescription called for a medicine that didn't exist. Emergency call to physician. Gentle, reassuring, patient and persistent pharmacists who worked overtime to take care of things. Prescription filled. I could proceed.
Back at home to finish packing. And a short night's sleep.
And we were off.
Going to Poland is always emotionally fraught for me. So many memories, so much expectation, so many disappointments, heartbreak, exhilaration.
But this time Dave was coming along. And what a joy that was.
We hurried up and waited. Discovered that TSA missed some forgotten liquids in our carry-on luggage.
Flew off into the clouds and through the night, watched three movies to stifle the nerves, a long lay-over at Heathrow, excellent French Onion Soup in terminal three, and then...
do Warsawaw, to Warsaw.
A city bus to our Five-Star Hotel and a gracious, elegant Old World welcome.
Arrival. Settle in. Go exploring. Settle nerves. Gawk with amazement.
Warsaw. A city of utter devastation in 1945. Nothing, nothing but rubble. And now, here we are, living again on the rubble of the past and finding a thriving, forward-leaning city.
Warsaw is not just its past anymore. It is its future. And that is all around! Especially in the university students that are our neighbors.
Poland is not built on rubble anymore. It is built on dreams.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Most this amazing day
There is no way one can say I didn't squeeze the very most out of life on this planet today.
Simple pleasures. All.
Coffee on the back porch looking out at the apple tree loaded with white blossoms and another that is brilliant pink. Birds going nuts in the warmth. The sound of the breeze in the tall fir trees and rustling the aspen. Warmth on my face, my arms, my toes. A true blue blaze of sky. The spiritual breeze gently stirring around and on and within me. Clear bell wind chimes singing the song.
There is a very special Colorado whirring fresh brush stroke that moves through the air and it kept me company all morning. The aspen are leafing out even as I watch. A time lapse camera would reveal their progress from morning until late afternoon. Likewise the apple tree: I sit and watch as they literally open up one-by-one-by-a-dozen.
Dave's company when he gets home from church. We sit and sigh. And watch the aspen metamorphosis. Then time for tennis. A great championship match. A trip to the garden store for a few more supplies. And a trip to the book store -- can it be better?
Then pie. And home for a late afternoon date with trees and bees and a lone white butterfly, lemonade from girls on the corner (50 cents for a medium) and a visit from Lola the pup across the street.
It hit 80 degrees but felt more like 75 all day and we soaked it all in --- the neighbors' forsythia, our busting-out tulips, the lone daffodil. And a big bouquet of pink popppies.
And now it's NCAA Women's basketball; time to text-chat with Kaia and decapitate my chocolate bunny.
These is more to life, I suppose. But I don't need it. This is the life. This.
Simple pleasures. All.
Coffee on the back porch looking out at the apple tree loaded with white blossoms and another that is brilliant pink. Birds going nuts in the warmth. The sound of the breeze in the tall fir trees and rustling the aspen. Warmth on my face, my arms, my toes. A true blue blaze of sky. The spiritual breeze gently stirring around and on and within me. Clear bell wind chimes singing the song.
There is a very special Colorado whirring fresh brush stroke that moves through the air and it kept me company all morning. The aspen are leafing out even as I watch. A time lapse camera would reveal their progress from morning until late afternoon. Likewise the apple tree: I sit and watch as they literally open up one-by-one-by-a-dozen.
Dave's company when he gets home from church. We sit and sigh. And watch the aspen metamorphosis. Then time for tennis. A great championship match. A trip to the garden store for a few more supplies. And a trip to the book store -- can it be better?
Then pie. And home for a late afternoon date with trees and bees and a lone white butterfly, lemonade from girls on the corner (50 cents for a medium) and a visit from Lola the pup across the street.
It hit 80 degrees but felt more like 75 all day and we soaked it all in --- the neighbors' forsythia, our busting-out tulips, the lone daffodil. And a big bouquet of pink popppies.
And now it's NCAA Women's basketball; time to text-chat with Kaia and decapitate my chocolate bunny.
These is more to life, I suppose. But I don't need it. This is the life. This.
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